


Devils and Dust

by xxx_cat_xxx



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Angst, Depression, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, F/M, Fever, Flashbacks, Gen, Hurt Tony, Hurt/Comfort, Post-Break Up, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Sadness, Sick Tony, Sick Tony Stark, Sickfic, Sleep Deprivation, Tony Stark Feels, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Vomiting, alcohol overuse, steve rogers cares
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-15
Updated: 2018-07-27
Packaged: 2019-06-11 00:22:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,509
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15303336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xxx_cat_xxx/pseuds/xxx_cat_xxx
Summary: “He´s been going down for so long that he´s starting to yearn for the moment he´ll finally crash.But not tonight.It´s the Friday after Peter´s birthday, and Tony owes him a grand party at the very least, after all he´s made the kid go through.”---Steve witnesses a feverish Tony falling apart after Pepper has left.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I usually try to write characters as canon-compliant as possible, because this is how I like to read them. This story is an exception, which is why it´s not part of my Whumping Tony series, although that name would definitely fit the content. This is my interpretation of how things might have gone had Tony´s mental health taken a turn for worse. Apart  
> from that, I tried to keep everything as realistic as possible. It’s darker than anything else I’ve ever written, but I was in the mood. I might write a second part, let me know your thoughts. If you like it, follow me on tumblr at [xxx-cat-xxx.tumblr.com](https://xxx-cat-xxx.tumblr.com).

\-----------

_I’ve got my finger on the trigger_  
_And tonight faith just ain’t enough_  
_When I look inside my heart_ __  
_There’s just devils and dust_ __  


_____ _

_____ _

_\- BS ___

\----------

__It´s been a quiet week and that´s exactly the problem. Tony has always been able to deal with pressure, with adrenaline-pitching situations, life-or-death decisions. It´s peaceful times like these that get to his bones, when the lack of distraction leaves him with numb and empty and feeling useless._ _

__The flashbacks have been coming and going for the last few days, and it doesn´t help his fragile sense of reality that he´s caught a bug somewhere and is running a temperature. He´s so detached from the world that he might find it comical, wasn´t it for the bone-deep exhaustion, the pounding in his head and the sense of foreboding that´s been weighing down on him for weeks._ _

__He´s been having trouble sleeping, the dreams turning more and more violent every time he tries. They leave him breathless and sobbing when he awakes in his too-large double bed, Pepper´s absence so overwhelming that it´s nearly tangible. She´s been away for a month, and he´s been going down for so long that he´s starting to yearn for the moment he´ll finally crash. But not tonight. It´s the Friday after Peter´s birthday, and Tony owes him a grand party at the very least, after all he´s made the kid go through. ._ _

__He´d shifted all appointments to have the day off for preparations, but owing to another sleepless night he was finished with everything at noon, leaving him wandering around his own empty tower, unable to come up with something worth doing. He´s lacking the motivation to even enter the lab and fix the pair of robots he broke during his latest week-long workshop binge, which would probably get him worried if he could spare any engery to care about it._ _

__When it´s time for him to get ready, his hands are shaking hard enough that he´s having trouble fixing his tie._ _

__“How do I look, Friday?” he prompts when he has finally managed to make himself presentable. Tony has neglected the AI recently, and he can practically hear her scowling when she replies._ _

__“Dead tired and high on caffeine, Sir, so nothing out of the ordinary.”_ _

__“Yeah, that´ll do,” he mumbles to himself and startles when he hears the doorbell ring._ _

__The security cameras inform him that the whole group has assembled at the front door, carrying a protesting Peter on their shoulders, throwing him into the air with shouts of Happy Birthday, Spiderman. The ease of the whole scene makes something in Tony´s chest ache with longing. He takes a last look into the mirror, draws a deep breath, and opens the door._ _

__“Look who´s here! Underoos, isn´t it past your bedtime? You´re what, 14 years old now?”_ _

__The world presents itself through a haze, making it feel like he´s watching everything on a movie screen. He hugs Rhodey a few seconds longer than usual, prompting the older man to examine him with dark, concerned eyes._ _

__“You okay, dude? You look…worn out.”_ _

__But if there´s something that Tony Stark has become an expert at, maybe even more so than at contriving genius inventions or saving the world, it´s pretending to be alright when he´s not. He´s made it through months of Palladium poisoning, so a touch of fever and anxiety feel like a walk in the park._ _

__“I´m great, Rhodes,” he grins, “Whaddaya say, wanna try some cobweb brownies? Took me ages to find a shop that bakes them in this shape out of the Halloween season…”_ _

__He makes his way through the evening alright, joking, catching up, and avoiding anyone who might notice his sweating and the constant jittering of his hands, which means Nat, basically. She´s been watching him closely all the time, and he has no doubt that she has realized something´s off, just as she did when he was dying a few years ago. She doesn´t say anything, though, and neither does he._ _

__The giant cake arrives, and Bruce recounts elaborately how he managed to convince Clint not to prank Peter by hiding a bunch of real spiders inside of it, and Tony laughs and claps his way through it all, smiling at the kid whenever he catches his eye. Pete looks so happy, and he deserves it. But Tony doesn´t. He hasn´t earned himself the right to be part of anything so good or pure. The piece of cake that´s forced into his hands nearly makes him gag._ _

__Finally, most of the group settles on the various couches for a movie. The inevitable Star Trek versus Star Wars argument commences, and Tony zones out, exhausted, slightly nauseated, thinking how he only has to last a few more hours before he can drown himself in scotch and Heavy Metal. But then Peter elbows him back into the present, and there´s a black hole on the screen that´s swallowing a spaceship, and suddenly it all comes back at him without a warning._ _

__He barely has time to bolt to the toilet before the cake comes up together with the memories. He feels disgusted at himself when a thick stream of vomit hits the bowl, but he can´t stop retching. He´s long past empty when dry heaves are still tearing him apart, making his whole body scream in pain._ _

__The wormhole closes in from all sides and pulls him down, deeper than he ever was. He´s retching, then shivering, then hyperventilating, and then he feels like he is dying. And what scares him most is that he can´t bring himself to really mind it anymore. He rests his aching head on the rim of the toilet, finally succumbing to the horror film that´s playing in his mind._ _

__———-_ _

__Steve has been having an unexpectedly good time. The restriction on hard alcohol that even Tony had agreed to because of Peter´s age means that the conversations are actually making sense even a few hours into the party. Peter´s constant happy chatter keeps everyone engaged, and whoever prepared the food has absolutely outdone themselves._ _

__He doesn´t really catch the reason for everyone getting worked up about which of the sheer infinite list of silly alien-battle movies to play, nor the fun they seem to draw from watching things being blown up in outer space. But he goes along with the general mood and relaxes as good as he can. They are a twenty minutes into the movie when he feels the urge to use the bathroom and excuses himself._ _

__When he opens the door to the floor´s common restroom, he is greeted by the sound of violent retching carrying over from one of the stalls._ _

__“Hello?” he calls out hesitantly. “Do you need help?”_ _

__The answer is silence, and then what sounds like a suppressed sob. Steve is just about to leave - there are a few people at the party whom he doesn´t know closely, after all, and he doesn´t want to disturb - when the door of the stall opens. The man who staggers out, pale, trembling and wiping sick from his mouth, is the last he´d expected to see in such a state._ _

__“Tony, what…?” is all he can say._ _

__“I´m okay, Cap, just…” he trails off breathlessly and stumbles, apparently caught in a dizzy spell._ _

__“Whoa, whoa, easy.” Steve motions to hold the other man up when he sways on his feet._ _

__“I´m okay, I´m okay, ” Tony seems to say more to himself than to Steve, batting his hands away and leaning heavily against the basin._ _

__“What happened, Tony? Did you drink?” Steve asks, trying not to sound disappointed._ _

__“Always assuming the worst, Rogers, aren´t we?” he coughs. It´s meant to come out lightly, but Steve can hear the bitterness swinging along. “No, even I wouldn´t pull that one on the kid´s birthday.”_ _

__“Sorry…” Steve says. “But in my defense, your records aren´t exactly the best.”_ _

__“Just leave me alone, Cap.” Tony rebuts, sounding tired._ _

__Steve examines his teammate´s appearance, and he is taken aback by how worn down Tony looks, almost old. He seems to be having trouble taking even breaths, and there´s an expression on his face that Steve would call afraid if he didn´t know better. Tony Stark might be a showman more times than not, but from all Steve knows, he is certainly not someone to be scared of things. Rather, what causes trouble is usually his lack of fear and respect in situations where such feelings would be appropriate._ _

__But still, Tony looks…haunted. It reminds Steve of Bucky on his worst days. And then it dawns on him._ _

__“Tony, I don´t want to interfere- ”_ _

__“Then don´t.”_ _

__“Did you have an anxiety attack? PTSD, flashbacks, something like that?”_ _

__Tony gives him an exasperated look. “Rogers, I´m serious, just do what you came here to do and then get lost.” He swallows hard, apparently fighting the nausea. “Okay, that came out rude, but what I´m trying to say is that it´s not the first time this happens. I can deal with it. Alone.”_ _

__For a moment Steve imagines Tony in the tower all by himself, shivering his way through panic attacks, and something pulls in his chest. He has heard of the break-up with Pepper, and he also knew about the PTSD, but he´d never had any idea that it gets this bad with Tony._ _

__Still, the man is right, it´s better to leave if he is not wanted, and hovering will most likely only make things worse for Tony._ _

__“Okay.”, he finally says. “But I´m here if you need…someone to talk, you know. Not only me, the whole team is there for you.”_ _

__There´s no conviction in his eyes when Tony fakes a smile. “Sure, capsicle. I know.”_ _

__———-_ _

__The party continues till late into the night. Cleaning up, which Steve commits to despite Tony´s insistence that he´s got robots to take care of it, takes even longer. By the time he is finished, most of the guests have either left or gone to sleep, so Steve decides to stay over as well. But once he is lying in his giant guest room´s ultrasoft twin bed, covered in smooth sheets of silk, he is entirely too comfortable to be comfortable._ _

__When sleep doesn´t come, he starts walking the halls, searching for someone else who is still up. Most of the Avengers have trouble sleeping for one reason or another, and it wouldn´t be the first night he has run into Bruce killing time in front of the TV, Clint hitting the gym at 2 in the morning, or Nat just sitting in the darkness, silent, unmoving, practicing invisibility._ _

__He isn´t disappointed, but the sounds he hears when he enters the common area are not what he´d hoped for. Ragged breaths and curses carry over from the direction of the bar. Steve nearly steps into a heap of large ceramic shards lying on the ground, spotted with dots of blood. They appear to be remains of a mug that has the Iron Man mask plastered on it. Steve recalls seeing Tony gulping coffee from it several times, and he briefly wonders whether it was a gift from Pepper, but then discards the thought, bending to pick up the sherds._ _

__“I was gonna trash it. But it just…broke”, a toneless voice mutters from behind the counter._ _

__Tony is slumped on the ground, the bar barely holding him upright. He looks so much worse than earlier that Steve wonders for a moment whether he wound up in some sort of time-travel experiment and skipped a few days. His teammate is deathly pale, only his cheeks flushed red, the breathing shallow, sweaty curls plastered against his forehead. His suit jacket and tie are gone, the half-opened shirt is soiled by flecks of vomit and blood from where he must have cut himself on the shards. One of his hands is clutching his chest where the arc reactor used to be, the other crushing a bottle of something high-proof._ _

__“God, Tony…” Steve exhales. The man is a mess. “It´s fine, I can fix the mug.” He knows it´s stupid the moment he says it._ _

__“Doesn´ matter.” Tony slurs, his eyes glistening wet. “I don´t wannit. Won´t make anythin´ right.”_ _

__“Okay, okay,” Steve soothes. “Is there - is there anything I can do?”_ _

__Tony just shakes his head before lowering it onto his knees. “I don´ need your pity, Rogers.” He takes another swig from the bottle. Steve doesn´t know how to comfort him, but he doesn´t want to leave, either. They sit in silence for a while._ _

__"´s all my fault”, Tony mumbles suddenly, less coherent than mere minutes ago. His breathing hitches up. He tries to pull himself up at the counter, failing and losing his balance. Steve is there without thinking, supporting him, but it turns out to be a bad idea. Tony swings a fist at him, his eyes large and glazed over, his whole frame trembling. “Don´t- “ he croaks, “Don´t touch me-”._ _

__“Alright, alright”, Steve mumbles, easing him back to the ground and then taking a step back, not failing to notice the heat radiating from the other man´s body._ _

__“I don´t wanna - I can´t - no- “ Tony pants, gesticulating into empty space. Steve has no idea where he thinks he is, but he´s sure it´s not here._ _

__“It´s me, Tony,” he says as calm as can manage, “We´re at the tower, remember? Breathe, just breathe, okay?”_ _

__“Fuck”, Tony exhales. “It´s just… all going to shit.”_ _

__“It´s okay, Tony. You´re running a fever, it´s messing with your senses. Whatever you think you are seeing, it´s not real.” Steve slowly moves into his direction, empty palms raised in front of him. “Let´s get you to bed and- ”_ _

__“The fever´s not the problem, Rogers!” Tony yells in a hoarse voice, and Steve is shaken by how desperate he sounds. “You don´t understand, you, you don´t know what´s going on in my head - what´s happening - you can´t get -” he breaks off, gasping for breath. The look on his face is pure terror. “It´s not getting any better. I´m - I´m losing this one, Steve. Everyone.”_ _

__And that´s when he understands that Tony has been broken for a long, long time. Steve has been to war, he has had his fair share of trauma to deal with in the aftermath - but it was never like this. He has come to terms with his conscience. Whereas Tony… Steve used to think that tech and sarcasm are all there is to the man, that all his reckless, death-provoking actions are simply evidence of how he fails to take anything about life serious. But now it dawns on him that this was just Tony´s way of keeping himself from falling apart. Steve wonders how a person can talk so much about himself and yet reveal so little._ _

__He doesn´t know what to say. And it doesn´t matter, because he is not the one needed here._ _

__“Does Pepper know?” he finally asks._ _

__Tony is sunken together, looking like a shadow of himself, but his eyes focus on Steve, and his ashen face seems a little more lucid._ _

__“Not…not all of it.”_ _

__He attempts to collect himself and fails. When he looks at Steve, his mask has nearly fallen, and he is an inch from pleading._ _

__“Cap, please, just don´t try to help in that.” He takes a shallow breath, then another, and swallows frantically. “This is my mess, my fault, and trust me, you don´t wanna be pulled into it. I´m - I´m gonna get it under control, somehow.”_ _

__He reaches for the bottle, misses it. He doesn´t try again, and that´s how Steve knows his words were empty. Because Iron Man wouldn´t give up, ever._ _

__He takes a decision._ _

__“Just let me get you to bed, at least.” It´s not a question. Steve pulls the other man up and frowns when he realizes that Tony has lost weight, a lot of it. The shirt dangles lose around his body._ _

__They stop at a trash can halfway through the corridor for Tony to heave up bile and what smells like pure alcohol. He´s barely conscious anymore when Steve positions him into bed and drags a blanket over his trembling form. Once Tony has fallen into a fitful, feverish sleep, the lines of exhaustion and pain never leaving his face, Steve sets water and aspirin on the bedside table and quietly leaves the room._ _

__He pulls out his phone. Tony is going to hate him for that, maybe forever. But if there is something Steve Rogers has become good at doing, it´s taking hard choices. Most of them were of the kind that would haunt him for the rest of his life, but if he had do, he´d take them all over again._ _

__The phone rings two, three times. It´s late, the night already melting into morning, but he knows that she will pick up eventually, as clear as he knows that she will help._ _

__Pepper doesn´t sound sleepy when she answers the call._ _

__“It´s Steve”, he states, preparing himself to speak the words Tony could never say. “We need to talk.”_ _


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is for Builder. Thank you for the idea, I didn´t even know how much I wanted to write this before you told me. I hope I did it justice.  
> Yes, the ending is meant to be ambiguous.  
> 

\-----

_What if what you do to survive_  
_Kills the things you love_  
_Fear’s a powerful thing, baby_

\-----

When Tony wakes up, he is embedded into blissful nothingness. For the shortest of moments, he doesn´t remember where he is, or when, or why, and the ignorance is nothing but comforting. He wants to stay like this forever, guiltless, protected, unscathed.

Then everything returns to him with one blow that knocks the air out of him, sucks out every last bit of energy. It´s all back. The pounding in his head, the feverish heaviness in his limbs, the sick churning in his stomach. And the memories, and the guilt, and the pain.

He opens his eyes to the stinging light. He is in bed, his own. He slowly sits up, his body weighed down by stones, his mind by darkness. He can´t remember ever waking up and feeling more hopeless, more worn out and less capable of facing whatever horrors the day has to offer. All he knows is that he has to scrape through, somehow, again.

But firstly he needs to be sick. Bile is starting to collect around his tongue, hangover, illness and looming anxiety taking their toll. Tony gets out of his bed, shivering as soon as the blanket slides from his shoulders. The fever must have climbed during the night, everything is a haze, vibrating around him like desert air.

His vision goes black as soon as he stands up, and he staggers into a wall, pushing his back against it to stay upright while stumbles to the bathroom and falls onto his knees. Opening the toilet lid feels like lifting up the iron suit with his bare hands.

He hangs his head over the bowl and waits for the inevitable, letting strings of spit waft down into the water and feeling lines of cold sweat trickle on his forehead. He knows what´s coming, the nausea carrying him up and down in waves. He feels sicker with every breath that passes, but it takes painfully long until his stomach finally contracts and disgustingly warm liquid is being pushed up his throat. It hurts, and as soon as the first mouthfull is out, he gags again, a thick gush of booze and bile hitting the water.

His body curls into itself when the retching doesn´t stop. Soon, he can´t breathe anymore, feels himself starting to panic. “Fuck”, he exhales, trembling hands grasping the toilet seat hard, trying to ground himself. For a moment he is back in a cave in Afghanistan, ice-cold hands closing tightly around his chest –

“Tony!”

It´s her voice, but it can´t be. His mind is playing tricks on him again, fueled by the fever. She´s been around a lot recently, this mock version of Pepper, comforting him when he was crying and shouting and puking his guts out, cursing himself and the world in drunken stupor.

He glances towards the door frame, where she is standing a few feet away. He yearns to bury his head in her embrace, longs for her cool fingers on his burning forehead, her calming touch on his tortured body. God, he never knew it was possible to miss anyone this much.

The vision-Pepper always tends to his touch-starved body the way he needs it, but this time the figure keeps her distance, and that´s how he finally understands that she must be real. He´s a miserable mess on the floor, and he wouldn´t want her to see him like this, not after all that happened. But he can´t help to feel a surge of disappointment when she doesn´t even try to enter the room.

He briefly wonders how long she´s been around, and who let her in, then another heave knocks him over, making him moan when the pain in his head explodes. There are shadows lingering in the corners which he figures don´t belong into the bathroom, but he shakes them out of his head, causing the world to spin. Not now. Not in front of Pepper.

Tony throws up one last time, wipes his mouth, gets up, and then vertigo brings him back to his knees immediately, ending the weak pretense of him getting his shit together.

Pepper motions to support him.

“Leave me”, he growls.

“- are really sick.” he hears. She must have been talking for some time.

“Yeah, I’m okay.”, he lies, voice hoarse from retching.

But everything is shattering. Her presence destroys whatever remainders of composure he ever had left. She was the best thing in his life, the one person worth living for, and he squandered his chance.

He can´t think clearly. He needs the workshop, distraction, now. Tony heaves himself up on his feet, ignoring the black spots that appear in his vision, makes for the door.

“You can’t go out like this, Tony, you really need to rest!” she stops him.

“Pepper, just…leave it,” he pleads, avoiding to look at her. “I don´t know why you are here, but seriously, just go.” His fingers curl around the doorknob.

“I am here because Steve called me at four in the morning saying you are drunk, delirious and scaring him with the stuff you´re talking. _Scaring_ Captain America. And all that on Peter´s party.”

Fuck, the kid´s birthday. One more tick on the endless list of things he managed to ruin.

“Where’s Pete?”, he croaks, hating how weak his voice sounds.

Her expression softens. “Back at his aunt’s”, she sighs.

“He doesn´t know”, she adds upon seeing his alarmed gaze, “Steve told him you caught a bug and need to sleep it off. Don’t know if he believed it, though. People are not as stupid as you think, Tony. They care.”

He shrugs. “Not enough to stay, apparently.”

He hates himself the moment it’s out. He didn’t want that, hurt her even more than he already has. He’d told her that he respects her decision to leave, after that terrible night when everything had fallen apart, that he didn’t judge her for going, and that was the truth, give or take. But god, sometimes it is so hard not to blame. Sometimes the world is just too cruel for him to remain a decent human being.

He suddenly feels hot and cold at the same time, and his legs won´t hold his weight anymore. He manages a few steps towards the bed, then slips down onto the floor next to it, burying his aching head in his hands. He needs to be alone before he loses it completely, but he doesn´t think that he can stand. He’s starting to feel like puking again, and he can’t have her around for that. It’s not embarrassment, she’s seen him in worse states often enough. It’s rather that he doesn’t know how long he will be able to resist the urge to beg her to stay, just today, just until he’s better and the fever stops making him confuse reality and nightmares.

He looks up at her.

“I´m sorry, Pepper, I didn´t mean to -

“No, Tony, sorry doesn´t cut it.” Her voice is shaking, and he can see her forcing down the tears glistening in her eyes, but she keeps speaking.

“I will talk now. And you listen. I had the whole night of sitting at your bedside and worrying my head off to prepare what I am going to say to you, so do not interrupt me.” She takes a deep breath.

“I wanted to stay, Tony, I really did. But you….you kept pushing me away while at the same time telling me how much you needed me. You…you always keep everything that hurts you inside, everything that really matters. You might think that you protect me by not telling me what´s going on, that you spare me the pain of it, but in reality, you just make it worse. Because I know that things aren´t alright, but you don´t talk to me. You, you just bury yourself in your work and your machines, which might have been understandable at the time you were poisoned and I was still your employee, but it´s been years now and you still don´t ever ask me for help. Not after New York, not after Extremis, not when Wanda made you see that vision. You just shut yourself away and created Ultron –“

“You weren’t even there when Ultron happened, Pepper.”

“Yeah, but would it have made a difference? Would you have asked me for advice had I been there? Would you have stopped, Tony, actually _stopped_ , if I had asked you to?”

There´s a beat of silence while the answer writes itself crystal clear into the air.

“I trashed the suits after Extremis.” He knows it´s futile.

“Yes, and I was grateful for that. It…. it actually meant something, at that time. But then Ultron happened, and I just feel like we´ve come full circle again.”

“Ultron was a mistake-“

“People died, Tony, lots of them! It’s not just a _mistake_ -“

“Don’t you think I know that, Pepper?” He is shouting now, crying maybe, losing control. Doing all that he´d sworn himself not to do. But it doesn´t matter, because everything is collapsing around him. His life. His sanity. The whole world, too.

“Don’t you think they are in my head as well? Don´t you think they fucking keep me awake at night? Don’t you think I see it happening over and over again, all the time?”

“You - did you just say you see it?”

 _Shit._ Shit, shit, shit. He shouldn´t have let himself go.

“See, like the ´see´ in flashbacks?” she probes again, taking a step towards him, her whole posture torn between anger and fear. “Tony, did it get this bad again? The panic attack last night Steve told me about, it wasn’t just a one-time fever occurrence?”

He should have never had this talk.

„I… got it under control, Pepper.“

“No, you don’t, you clearly don´t. How long has it been, Tony?”

“I-“

“How long? Did it get this bad before I left?”

He stays silent, because he can´t lie to her anymore. There’s so many things in her eyes when she looks at him, but mostly it’s sadness. For a moment, he irrationally believes that she will step forward and hold him, become his anchor in reality, tell him he will be okay. But that must be his fever talking, because instead, she moves away, and her gaze hardens.

“And that’s exactly it.” she says quietly.

And he knows what´s coming. It´s so different from the last time they fought, her lack of shouting, his lack of sarcasm, both of their regret. But then, the result is just the same all over again, and it hurts no less.

“There it is. The reason I left. You…you still believe it was wrong to let that slip right now, don´t you?” She pauses, swallows. “You can’t keep anyone close to you and hide things like these from them. You can never understand. I’m… I’m done, Tony. I´m sorry. I truly am.”

She makes for the door, unable to hide the tears on her cheek.

“Pepper.”

That´s it, he’s begging now. It’s the last attempt, because he knows that there will be no reason left to fight if he let’s her leave the room. He can feel his life bleeding out of him with every step she takes away. He knows there’s no coming back after that. Not for her, not for him.

She turns, the hand on the door knob. “I don’t want to do this, either, Tony.” She is openly crying now, the pain on her face slowly tearing apart every single cell of his body. 

“Then don’t,” he whispers, hearing his voice break.

“Give me a reason.” she pleads, her tone desperate, and he knows she means it.

But he can’t. Because, deep down, he has long since understood that it was true what Killian Aldrich told him all these years ago, in a night tinged by devils and fire, the first time he’d nearly lost her. He never deserved her. And it’s the best for her to get far, far away from him before he will destroy her, too.

Tony closes his eyes. He’s tired of pretending, of fighting, of holding together what has been broken so long ago. He can see the wormhole inside his feverish mind, and this time he knows it won´t let him escape. There’s voices in his head, pictures, things that don´t belong there. He wants to run from it all, and at the same time there is this tempting, dangerous desire to just give in to it, lose himself in the madness. He´s cared too much for so long. Finally, he is all ready to go down for good.

He waits for the noise of the door falling shut.

—–

But it doesn’t. Instead, he thinks that he can feel a cool finger on his blazing skin, wiping a tear from his face. He blinks.

“I´ll hate myself forever if I leave you here like this”, she whispers. Then, “God, you´re truly boiling.”

He tries to reply, but he´s devoid of words. “Don’t… Pepper, just don´t. Just… Just go, okay?” he manages after a long time. He’s given up. He can’t let the possibility of this, of them, exist in his head. He can’t allow himself to hope again.

“When have I ever listened to you, Tony Stark?” she says so tenderly that it pierces through every single layer of his shell. He knows this can´t be happening. She is just a fever vision, another ghost sent by his crazy mind to torture him.

But it feels so good.

A sob fights its way up his throat, then it turns into a gag. His body hunches forward, and he turns away from her, escapes her cool hands. He vomits bile onto the floor, the strain shaking his body. Blackness creeps into his field of vision.

“I´m a mess.” he brings out.

“We can fix this. This is what we do, remember?”

He leans against the bed, forcing his aching eyes to focus on her wavering form. “Go.” he commands. _Stay_ , everything inside him screams. _I don´t know how to go on without you._

“I´m not leaving for good, Tony,” she says softly, ”I never did.” She kneels down beside him on the floor, opening her arms.

He lets himself fall forward, into her, finally giving in to her embrace. It´s all so familiar that it hurts deep, deep inside of him, brushing pieces of his soul he´d thought to be long dead by now. He closes his eyes, rests his burning head against her collarbone.

 _Please be real_ , he breathes. And he holds her tight before the darkness pulls him under and Pepper´s figure dissolves into nothingness.


End file.
